Tag Archives: My Real Memoir

Looking for Love and the Meaning of Life

Photo by Ron Lach My Real Memoir It wasn’t the first time my heart had been pierced. But it was the deepest cut it had ever received. Why? Because, when my first two “I love yous,” Marty and Dar, had left, they’d … Continue reading →

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Dangling by a Thread of Hope

My Real Memoir I’d just turned twenty-five, and was recovering from multiple goodbyes, while pushing back against that old recurring sense of purposelessness. So I clung to what remained: I still had friends, even if the tide had carried some away. And … Continue reading →

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One Goodbye Leads to Another, and Another…

Image by Tama66 My Real Memoir Mom grew weary of wandering alone in the big Coyote Hills house. A year-and-a-half had passed since my father died, and a year since I’d moved out to be near my school of the arts. Thanks … Continue reading →

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Trapped in a Box of My Own Design

My Real Memoir I’d built the cabin—and now I had cabin fever. This wasn’t the life I wanted. All I did, it seemed, was administrate my tiny-but-important-sounding Newport Institute of the Arts. I was doing the one thing I said I’d never … Continue reading →

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The Mold From Which I Was Made

My Real Memoir She was my template, my prototype. But I never knew it. Even as a preschooler, I was embarrassed by her. “Don’t forget to go wee-wee,” she’d say at bedtime. “Nooo, Grandma! It’s pee-pee!” As a teenager, I loudly dressed … Continue reading →

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The Magic of Being Wanted

Source: Wedding Sparrow My Real Memoir More than anything else, I wanted to be wanted. My college girlfriend no longer needed me, maybe never did. My current quasi-girlfriend Janet liked me, but liked other flavors too. Just to be clear, I was … Continue reading →

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Looking for a Bigger Love

My Real Memoir I’d found “the One,” and then lost her. Twice. By which I mean I’d fallen in love with my high school sweetheart, then told her I wasn’t sure I still loved her, then decided I still did, then been … Continue reading →

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And Then I Met This Girl…

My Real Memoir I’d fallen in love with the entirety of girlkind in second grade. A third-grader had seen me skin my elbow, and tenderly rubbed my shoulders as she escorted me to the nurse’s office. That was all it took. Even … Continue reading →

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Drowning Out the Persistent “Why?”

My Real Memoir There are a lot of distractions on the road to nowhere. People with tinnitus in their ears have to find ways to drown out the persistent whine. I had a case of metaphysical tinnitus, and was looking for ways … Continue reading →

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I Made Myself Up as I Went Along

Photo by Mr. Friks My Real Memoir I’m a lucid dreamer. No, more than that. There’s no real barrier between my perception of reality and my dreams. Just a fine layer of mist. And when I’m tired or lost in thought, I … Continue reading →

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